


Sibling Rivalry

by Jeddi_Spaghetti



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Consensual, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Other, Sex, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:05:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9466637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeddi_Spaghetti/pseuds/Jeddi_Spaghetti
Summary: Set just before TFA, General Hux is irritated. Why is that woman here, on *his* battlecruiser? Why is she always with Ren? And why does that bother him so damn much?





	1. Chapter 1

Ren stalked through the halls of the destroyer, his face twisted with frustration beneath the black helm. He reached the door to his quarters, and stepped through as the door slid away. Inside, a dull red glow stained the walls, bleeding through the darkened space. Ren stopped just beyond the threshold, his senses tingling at the unexpected presence within, as the door slid shut behind him. A moment, and then the tension in his body eased as he recognised the intruder. There was a silken rustle and a shift in the shadows as a figure stepped forward into ruddy glow, exposed pale skin glowing pink against the seductively draped black robe.

 “My Lord…” the figure sighed, her voice rich with desire. Ren moved forward into the room as the woman came towards him, reaching for him.

 “Why are you here?” Ren pulled off his helm and set it down, turning away from the woman dismissively.

 “I wanted to see you…” She touched him lightly on the back, sliding her hand over his broad shoulder as she moved around to face him. She looked up into his face, eyes searching, her hand sliding down his chest and gripping onto his robes.

 Ren sneered and pulled away. “Go bother your brother. I’m not in the mood for you Maristela.” He moved away towards the doorway to the bedroom, pulling his gloves off as he went, smirking slightly as he sensed her frustration and irritation at his dismissal.

 “What do I care about my father’s bastard?” She snorted, following him into the bedroom as the room was softly illuminated at his touch. “Armitage and I aren’t exactly close, as you well know.” She passed Ren and threw herself backward onto the bed, throwing her arms out as she stretched, further dislodging the already loose robe. “I’d much rather play with you.” She purred, propping herself up on one arm and smiling up at him.

 Ren looked at her, admiring her long, lean body barely covered by the robe. Her silken strawberry blonde hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders and across the black silk sheets, her skin unblemished except for the faintest scattering of freckles across her cheeks. The pale eyes stared back, lips parted slightly in smirk.

“You know you want to…” she teased.

Ren strode forward and kneeled on the bed, reaching forward and grasping Maristela about the throat. “You think you know what I want?” He asked quietly, his voice dark with threat.

She chuckled, her voice slightly hoarse from the pressure, as she reached out to run a hand down his stomach, dragging her fingers down through the thick fabric, stopping at his groin. Her grin widened at the tight bulge that she felt there. She met his gaze and smirked, pushing up into his grasp. 

“What are you afraid of?”

Ren pulled away, shoving her backwards as he moved off the bed.

“I’m not _afraid_ of anything.” He sneered, but she could see the tension in his body. Maristela sighed inwardly, _I forgot he was touchy about that…_

She pushed herself up off the bed and moved over to where Ren was removing his robes. He pulled at the fastenings impatiently, shucking his shoulders out of the heavy fabric and tossing it aside. She reached out to him again, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t be like that. I was just teasing.” She began pulling the shirt from his trousers, before reaching up to loosen the collar. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, his expression flat as he looked away. She pulled off the shirt and leaned in, her nose against his flesh as she breathed deeply and softly kissed his skin.

Ren stared at the wall, his eyes softening and his lids growing heavy as she made her way down his torso. Her soft lips brushed his skin, and his flesh warmed beneath her hot breath as her hands pulled at his trousers, letting them fall about his knees as she knelt before him. She slid her hands up his thighs and and over his hips, pulling him towards her as she nuzzled her face into the fabric of his underwear. He looked down at her, his lips parted, as he reached out and grasped her hair.

She teased him further, slowly nuzzling, kissing and biting at the fabric covering his growing erection. His fist tightened in her hair, and she looked up into his heavy lidded gaze as she pulled his pants down, his cock bouncing slightly as it was freed. She nuzzled the base of his dick, and then tilted her head up as she ran her tongue along his shaft, feeling a rush of hot excitement as he groaned softly at her caress. Her tongue ran rings around his glans, his shaft tight in her grip; then she took him into her mouth.

She moved her hand and mouth rhythmically together, stopping occasionally to lick his cock playfully, running her tongue along its length, or tickling his frenulum. Ren rolled his head back, his mouth slack and brows pulled down in concentration. Maristela could feel his cock getting harder, his breathing getting shorter, and knew he was going to cum soon. She increased the rhythm, and after a time was finally rewarded as Ren gasped and his whole body jerked, his breath caught in his throat as he spilled himself over her. He let out a long groan and released her, tendrils of her hair sliding through his fingers as he stepped back and leant sideways against the wall.

Maristela sat back on her heels and regarded him, a smirk on her face as she looked him over. “Feel better?”

Ren reached down slowly and pulled on his pants, holding them up as he moved over to the bed and sat down. He ignored her question, instead bending down to remove his boots. She sighed quietly, then stood and went into the adjoining bathroom to clean the cum off her face and chest.

Ren pulled off his boots and let himself fall backwards onto the bed, his arms behind his head.

“You’re such hard work at times Ren,” Maristela sighed as she came back into the bedroom. She crawled onto the bed and straddled him. Ren grunted, but said nothing. She idly traced the veins showing up through his pale skin with a finger-tip, circling around his areola as irritation flashed across his face and his hand struck out and gripped her wrist.

“Stop it.” He commanded, his eyes flashing beneath their lids.

“Ticklish?” She teased, loosening her wrist and leaning forward over him, her lips inches from his. He slipped his arm about her waist and rolled her sideways, reversing their positions. He loomed over her for a moment, his mop of wavy black hair framing his face. He kept eye contact as he shifted a leg over one of hers, moving to the side of her as leaned down onto an elbow, stroking his free hand over her throat and down to her breast. He pushed aside the loose robe that still clung to her, exposing her fully. His hand cupped her breast, and he dragged his thumb across a pert nipple, before leaning in and capturing it lightly in his teeth. Maristela gasped, and arched her back slightly as he began to tease and suck at her breast.

Ren’s hand slid down and away from her breast, down the curve of her stomach and cupped her groin. He slid a single finger between the lips of her pubis, slowly stroking upwards as he brushed his lips up to curve of her neck and shoulder, and sunk his teeth in.  His finger slipped down further, briefly entering her before stroking upwards again. He continued to stroke her, first with one, then two fingers, as he nipped and kissed at her neck and shoulder.  Maristela pushed her hips forward, thrusting into his hand as she grew wet with excitement, the throbbing heat between her legs contrasting against the throbbing ache of his teeth marks on her neck.

She lost herself in the rhythm, sliding away toward orgasm when suddenly Ren stopped and drew himself back, releasing her.

“Wha? … Noo don’t stop.” She moaned propping herself up on her elbows to look at him as he moved away. Ren stood at the end of the bed and reached out, pulling her body down the bed until her legs were over the edge. He knelt between them, sliding his arms under her thighs and hips, gripping her waist, and then nuzzled his face into her groin.  She leant back and sighed as he kissed her mons, then her labia, catching the soft folds gently between his lips. His tongue slid up over her, then in between the folds, teasing her clit.

 Long flat strokes of his tongue, consistent and rhythmic, soon saw her body return to that hot dark place, thrumming with pleasurable tension. She moaned and thrust a hand into his hair, rocking her hips up to meet his mouth. Ren stopped and looked up her, panting, before pulling his arms free and leaning over her once again. He pushed her back up onto the bed and knelt between her legs, breathing rapidly as he pulled at his trousers and pants, freeing his newly erect cock and lowering himself down. He tugged at her hips, pulling them up to meet his own as he entered her, thrusting deep with excitement. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down, pushing herself onto him as her thrust into her. One hand tangled in his hair as once again his mouth closed on her neck, teeth latching onto her skin as he moaned. Her free hand stroked down his back, feeling the muscles tense and roll as he moved. She gripped his ass cheek as his movement became more urgent, feeling the muscle contract as he thrust into her.  Her flesh felt hot and tight around him, a growing sensation of thick pressure building within her groin, hot and delicious as though she could consume it. Just as the tension within her came close to release, she felt Ren’s body jerk again, a low moan and a shudder running through him, before his whole body relaxed.

 _Dammit!_ Maristela groaned inwardly. She was _so_ close! Ren rolled off her and splayed across the bed as she gave a small, disappointed cry. He chuckled at her frustration and turned his head to look at her beneath languid lids. He watched her a moment, and she reached for him in frustration.

“Come on… It’s my turn…” She whined, pouting as she pulled his hand back to her body. “Pleeease..?”

He grinned lazily and rolled towards her again, pressing his hand back down into her flesh. He pushed his fingers inside her and brought them away, admiring the sticky mess that come with them. He moved his fingers to her mouth and waited. Maristela parted her lips, sucking his fingers slowly, watching him as he watched her.  He slipped his fingers out of her mouth and she licked her lips. Ren leaned forward and their mouths met hungrily as his hand returned to her pubis and began stroking her again. She could taste cum as their tongues pressed and stroked, her hips arching up into his hand. He pulled away and turned towards where his fingers dipped into her hot flesh, slipping them into her again as he pressed his mouth over her clit.

Maristela grabbed her breast and rode the waves of pleasure back to the brink as Ren’s fingers swirled within her, his hot mouth wet and demanding as he devoured her. A small gasp escaped her lips as she tumbled over the edge, her breath catching in her lungs and her body jerking taught as she was overwhelmed by the orgasm. Ren continued, his mouth and fingers pushing her back into another orgasm as soon as she surfaced slightly from the first. Again and again, his persistent touches pushed her until her body ached and pleasure was tainted by discomfit.

“Enough!” She gasped breathlessly, trying to pull away from him. Ren sneered up at her, enjoying her relief as he slipped his fingers out of her before he flopped back onto the bed.

A quiet moment passed as Maristela caught her breath, her body cooling and sliding into deep relaxation. They lay side by side, not touching in the dim light. 

“Maristela?” Ren asked. She made a small noise in response, not opening her eyes.

“Get out.” He said casually, not moving.

She sighed and stretched slightly in response. “In a minute,” she yawned, turning onto her stomach and resting her head in the crook of one arm as she closed her eyes.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux and Hux sit down for a drink and a friendly chat.

Sometime later Maristela slipped out of Ren’s quarters, dressed in her neat black uniform, damp hair reformed into a tight bun at the back of her head, cap set at a slight angle on top. She headed up the corridor towards the guest quarters. As she turned a corner she was forced to halt by a broad expanse of shiny, mirrored armour that appeared suddenly before her. She looked up into the face plate of Captain Phasma curiously. _I wonder what’s under there?_  

The Captain leaned slightly forward. “Colonel Maristela Hux. The General has requested your presence.” The words were followed by a sharp step to the side as the Captain invited her to move forward with a slight wave of a shiny clad arm.

Maristela sighed quietly to herself. She was hoping he hadn’t noticed her arrival on board an incoming freighter. _Well,_ she thought to herself as she walked forward, the Captain’s towering form stepping in behind her. _It was going to happen sooner or later. May as well get it over with._

They made their way through the maze of corridors, the Captain stomping along behind her, apparently under orders to ensure her attendance. Eventually they came to a halt outside a doorway, the symbol of the First Order emblazoned in its centre.

Captain Phasma activated the intercom beside the door. “Sir. I have the Colonel as requested.”

A moment, and then the door slid open revealing a brightly lit space. Maristela gave the Captain a curt nod as she stepped into the General’s quarters.

Within was a sparsely furnished living area in various shades of charcoal and white, a comfortable looking lounge suite dominating the middle of the room. Along the right-hand wall ran shelving filled with various data files, old books, and various other bits and pieces. A glass topped counter was set into nook in the wall and topped with an array of decanters and glasses, all lit from above.

To the left a long desk was alight with a system display, behind which the General himself was seated. Hux lifted his eyes to gaze coolly at her from beneath sharp brows, before returning his attention to the screens before him. Maristela gave a slight shrug at his little display —a subtle reminder that he was in charge, as if she needed it — and turned her attention to the other occupant in the room.

In the middle of the plush sofa, a fluffy orange cat stretched out languidly, it’s tail twitching ever so slightly at the tip. Maristela walked over and reached out to the cat, who cracked open an eye at the visitor’s close proximity. A quick sniff confirmed all was well, and was swiftly followed by gentle pats.

“You’ve gotten fat.” Maristela said, fingers running through the soft fur.

“She has not!” Hux snapped back, relinquishing the control panel suddenly; his reaction proof that his attention had been entirely focused on his guest, not his work.

“I was talking to you,” Maristela looked over at her half-brother with a slight sneer. “ _Millicent_ is looking as sleek as ever.”

“Hmph!” Armitage rounded his desk and stalked across the room to the small bar in the opposite wall. He poured a measure of pale golden liquid from a chrome decanter and topped it with water before taking a sip.

“I’ll have a double.” Maristela said without looking up. She sat down on the sofa and continued to stroke the cat. She could tell even without looking that Armitage had shot her a foul look at this statement, and a small smile crept across her face. Needling her older half-sibling was a delight that never faded.

Despite his obvious irritation, he poured the drink and walked over, offering the glass to her before taking a seat in a matching armchair to the right of the sofa. He pulled two coasters from their holder in the centre of the coffee table and placed one before each of them.

“You’ve been aboard the Finalizer for almost 6 hours, and you’ve not bothered to report in to anyone. What the hell have you been doing?” He snapped testily, arranging his coaster just so, before setting down his half empty glass.

Maristela took a sip from her own glass before replying, “Catching up with a friend. Working off a bit of frustration.” She grinned slyly and raised an eyebrow at Hux.

Hux leaned in towards his half-sister, his eyes hard, his expression harsh.

“You need to stop mooning over that shaggy, demented ruffian and start behaving more like…”

“Like what?” Maristela sneered, cutting him off. “More like my mother? ...Less like yours?” She huffed contemptuously.

Hux pulled back, his expression tight as he struggled to control himself, a faint pink flush rose up his neck beneath his collar and stained his ears. The circumstances of his birth had always been a sore point with him. 

“Like a Colonel of the First Order!” He snapped back, standing and stalking back to the bar with his glass in hand. He knocked back the remaining liquid and set the glass down.

“There’s a certain standard of behaviour expected.” Hux poured himself another drink, “A legacy to uphold! You can’t expect to continue being promoted through the ranks when you show such casual disdain for your current position. For the Order itself!”

“I have no interest in being promoted any further.” Maristela said dismissively, taking a sip of her drink. “My current rank serves its purpose.”

“Serves its purpose…!” Spluttered Hux indignantly. “Is that how you see your service to the Order? As a meal ticket?! As a… as means to an end?!” He demanded incredulously.

“Something like that,” Maristela quipped. Hux began pacing across the room.

“Frankly I don’t understand how you get away with it! One minute you’re sent away to some obscure training facility on the edge of the Unknown Region. The next you pop up out of nowhere 8 years later as an officer in the Department of Internal Media! You get ferried around the galaxy as you please under the pretence of ‘research’ …” Hux snorted and then stilled. He looked into his glass for a moment, suddenly more reserved. “I know you must be working for the Security Bureau Maristela.”

“Ha!” Maristela laughed, utterly bemused by Hux’s declaration. “Well if _you_ _know_ , it _must_ be true.” She said condescendingly.

Hux bristled, “There’s no other explanation for your… your…freedom!” He spat. “The lack of oversight given to your work, your comings and goings! No possible reason for your constant visits to the Finalizer!” He gesticulated wildly, highly agitated by her amusement.

“You’re quite wrong you know.” Maristela replied, “The answer is boringly simple.”

Hux waited for her to continue but she merely looked at him, her brows raised expectantly. When he failed to reply she continued with a sigh, “Armitage…As flattered as I am that you have taken such pains to keep abreast of my situation, my work…My _freedom_ , as you call it; I must say that your ... _obsession_ with my activities is somewhat concerning.” She looked at him gravely, brows slightly furrowed. “Surely you can see that someone as talented as I am would perform my duties better without the restrictions a lesser  _mind_ may require? I thrive best when left to my own devices you know, and the Chief of Internal Media understands that. Which is why he trusts me to do my work as I see fit. My results speak for themselves.” She gave him an arch look, “Since you know so much about my work, you must know how successful the last campaign I completed was.”

Hux pushed air out of his nose disparagingly, “Your performance reviews are so perfectly routine, so inoffensive, they reek of duplicity. I’d bet the Finalizer the Chief of Internal Media has never even laid eyes on you!”

Maristela rolled her eyes and leaned back into the sofa, letting out a sigh. “Honestly, why do you care so much? I have no interest in out-shining you Armitage. You’ll always be father’s favourite.”

He flinched slightly at her words and looked away.

“That’s not what this is about at all." He said, suddenly uncomfortable. "I simply wish to be kept abreast of any…potential issues, that may arise under my command.”

“Well, I can’t help you. I’m only here for a visit. I’m afraid I’m not the intelligence officer you’re looking for.” Maristela set her glass down and stood up.

 “A visit?” Hux echoed dubiously, “A visit to whom?”

“Ren... You.” She shrugged and straightened her uniform, plucking a stray hair from her sleeve, amazed as ever that Armitage had managed to procure a cat that barely shed any fur.

Hux regarded her suspiciously. “What exactly is it that you see in him anyway? Is it the power? _The_ _Force_?” He sneered. “Or are you just attracted to spoilt, fluffy-haired lunatics?”

Maristela regarded Hux, her head tilting slightly to one side.

“At first... Yes, it was the power.” She admitted. “I enjoyed the chase. He was so… _untouchable_. Stalking around like he carried the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders.” She snickered. “The fact that he was  _untouched_ was a bonus.” A self-satisfied smirk crossed her face as moved towards the door.

“But this last year or so, I must confess Armitage,” she turned to look at him as she opened the door. “I think it’s almost purely because it upsets you so much.” She gave a grin and a little shrug, then left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Millicent the cat is a concept I came across on Tumblr that I liked.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux can't sleep.

 

Hux tossed and turned in his bed. He couldn’t get comfortable, and his constant moving around had annoyed Millicent so much she had abandoned him for the night. He sighed and tried to force himself to relax, tensing muscles from his feet all the way up through his body until he was stiff with the tension, then relaxing them in reverse.  The exercise helped a little, but he still ached with frustration. Irritation burning through him where sleep should have been.

Maristela. She blew into his well-ordered and well-contained life like an inconstant breeze; somehow managing to leave it ever so slightly a-wry without any obvious ill intent. Certainly she like to tease him. Needle away at his weaknesses. That was, he understood, normal sibling behaviour, and so to be expected. No, it wasn’t the little digs that disrupted his world. It was as though she had snuck into his quarters and moved everything half an inch out of place. It made his skin itch.

There was a part of him that couldn’t shake the idea that everyone was comparing them. That he, Armitage Hux, was the product of a liaison between Commandant Brendol Hux and his kitchen woman was, at the very least, worthy of contempt. Brendol’s wife had been infuriated and ashamed by the arrival of her husband’s bastard, and had not kept it a secret. She had never been overtly cruel towards him though , merely dismissive. Once Maristela had been born, as precocious as her brother, she had eclipsed him in the eyes of many. His father had continued to show a marked preference for his son, but where the boy Armitage was sullen and withdrawn; Maristela had been outspoken and brazen. Where Armitage sought to control others through sheer will power and his self-righteous belief; Maristela charmed and manipulated. They were so different that any comparison was ultimately pointless. Yet compare them people did.

He sighed again and rolled onto his side. He didn’t hate her. No. He was certain of that. Though he had hated her when they were younger, he had grown oddly protective of his half-sister once she had returned from wherever it was she had been sent off to for training. However, it wasn’t out of any desire to ensure her happiness. He simply didn’t want anything to happen that may reflect poorly on him by association. More than that, though, he felt… _possessive_ of her. She was _his_ sister; and like everything he owned, she should be perfect. She almost was, he considered. It was her attitude that needed fixing. If only he could inspire in her the devotion and passion to the cause that he himself felt, he was certain that she would be an invaluable ally.

He felt a flush of irritation as he remembered their discussion. No, there was no chance of that particular ambition coming to life. She was determined to waste her time, and her talents, on less worthy pursuits. Her smirking face floated across his mind’s eye, her words echoing back across his thoughts. _“The fact that he was_ untouched _was a bonus.”_

“Argh!” Hux spat and tried to get up, but his unsettled rolling had twisted the sheets around him, and they caught him as he tried to rise. He pulled and kicked, flailing about in a childish fit of irritation, before freeing himself and stalking out of the room. He lit the living space and moved over to the little bar, pouring himself yet another drink. _She always drives me to drink_ , he thought watching the golden spirit pour into the cut glass tumbler. It was a pleasure he rarely indulged in, this love of complex and expensive spirits, but he always seemed to find himself with a glass in hand whenever Maristela was around. She exposed him to his own weaknesses.

The dim light barely cut through the darkness, but it was enough to see by, and he walked over to the sofa where his cat was curled into a tight ball.

“Sorry my dear. I can’t seem to settle this evening.” He apologised to the ginger cat in an undertone as he sat down, offering a gentle stroke along her back. His mind wandered again to earlier in the evening.  Maristela’s casual denial of being an agent of the Security Bureau had not been convincing; but then, Hux didn’t think she cared enough to try and convince him he was wrong. There was nothing he could do either way. All of his discrete inquiries into the matter had led to dead ends. It seemed that whilst he was allowed access to the information collected by the Bureau, it’s membership was another matter.

Then there was her continued affair with Ren. He couldn’t say why it bothered him so much. She had had other lovers over the years, and they had never caused him any kind of concern; indeed, the fact that they’d existed at all had barely registered. Ren was another matter though. He was a threat. Dangerous, mercurial and completely unreliable. He could undo all of Hux’s hard work with a violent fit of temper.

Armitage recalled the first time he had laid eyes on Ren. It had been shortly after the Supreme Leader had brought him into the fold of the First Order. Rumours had been flying thick and fast about the force user and his violent abandonment of his family. A part of Hux had been curious to see what the boy had looked like; to assess if he posed a threat to Hux’s own professional trajectory. He hadn’t known what to expect, but what he’d seen had troubled him. They hadn’t spoken that day — had not even been introduced to one another — but Hux had watched Ren from a distance, and had felt suddenly, inexplicably, nervous.

The sudden thought of Maristela in Ren’s arms caused a flash of hot anger to surge through him. He felt disconcerted by it for a moment, then reassured himself. _I don’t want that volatile prat touching my sister is all._ Perfectly natural. He was just trying to protect her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren reminisces over breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the infrequent updates. Back at uni and working full-time. Still plodding away when I can.

 

Ren stretched out across the bed, taking a deep breath as he relaxed his muscles. The sheets still held the faint scent of mint and lime that always seemed to linger wherever Maristela had been.

He rolled onto his side and replayed their most recent dalliance in his head. She pleased him in a very basic sort of way. Her persistence had irritated him in the early days of their acquaintance; but once he had given in to her attentions, she’d proven to be the perfect bed-mate. He didn’t want to talk, and she didn’t want to listen. Fucking was the only thing on her agenda it seemed, and that suited him. Her physical similarity to her half-brother had been somewhat disconcerting at first, but he soon grew to enjoy the idea. Especially when he was able to invoke an image of her face screwed up in a twist of pleasure and pain whenever he was clashing with the General.

He stretched again and rolled out of bed, moving towards the refresher. He went through his morning ritual, readying himself for another day aboard the ship on autopilot, barely paying attention to what he was doing. Sonic showers where all well good for removing the daily grime, but they couldn’t compare to the relaxing pound of hot water on the skin, and they didn’t leave him feeling satisfyingly refreshed the way a real shower did.

He placed his helmet on as he walked out of his quarters, heading for the officer’s mess. Morning briefing would follow, then, if nothing worthy of his skill and attention cropped up, he would train.

He moved swiftly along the wide corridors, troopers and officers alike stepping out of his path. At one junction of corridors he saw a pair of troopers pause as they came upon him, then suddenly perform an about face and march off in the opposite direction. He snickered to himself at that. He could sense their uncertainty, and their fear. It made him feel powerful.

Then there was Maristela, leaning against one wall, a smirk on her face as she flirted with a pair of officers off duty from the main bridge. It irritated him slightly that she was so free with her attentions. So amiable. Not like her brother at all in that respect. Armitage was aloof. He kept a distance between himself and everyone else with his unmistakable belief in his superiority. The only time Ren had ever seen that barrier waver was when he was around his half-sister. It was as though Hux lost confidence within himself at the sight of her; as though her existence somehow detracted from his. That was understandable though, Maristela’s personality was a force to be reckoned with.

Ren shook his head slightly, dismissing the idle thoughts. He ignored Maristela and strode past briskly, scattering the pair of officers she was chatting with as they moved quickly to avoid him, despite the corridor being ample enough for him to pass comfortably.

He felt it as Maristela fell into step beside him, her footsteps out of sync with his own long stride, but she managed to keep up with him without any obvious difficulty.

  
“Good morning,” Maristela broke the silence. “I hope my Lord slept well?”

He could hear the smirk in her voice, the hint of sarcasm saturating her tone. It irked him that she was so pleased with herself, but then, Maristela was always pretty pleased with herself.

He made no reply and continued into the officer’s mess, scattering lieutenants, corporals and majors alike as he made a bee line for the serving area. Maristela followed in his wake, unperturbed by his silence. This was all foreplay in her book. She’d lose interest if he gave her too much attention, he knew that from experience. He acquired his morning sustenance without a word, and found a seat alone at a rapidly emptying table. Maristela mimicked him, placing her tray of food down and taking a seat to his right.

Ren removed his helm, placing it down on the table, and began to eat steadily. Maristela let out a little sigh, but remained silent, focusing her attention on what was before her. They ate without exchanging a word, but he could sense her; her amusement, her mild irritation, her loud and persistent thoughts about what they could be doing instead of eating. It was like every other time she came back into his world, and just like the first time.

It was during the earlier days of his training with Snoke, when the memory of his violent defection still haunted his dreams. He had seen the strawberry blonde several times in passing, but she suddenly seemed to be everywhere. He had no idea where she’d come from or what she was doing. She was a second lieutenant with apparently far too much time on her hands.

It had made him nervous at first. He’d felt hunted. Eventually he’d mentioned her to Snoke — casually, as though he was merely curious about her — and discovered who she was. He’d deflected Snoke’s concern about his interest by commenting that he’d never seen anyone with hair that colour before. Which was almost true. It was pink in one light, orange in another; at almost six foot, even when she bothered to tie it back she still stood out amongst the other officers and staff. 

Eventually he became frustrated by her constant presence. It had happened whilst he was training alone; he’d been moving through the forms with his bloody red sabre, and he had mis-stepped. She’d laughed at him, her voice filling the room with a rich, rolling sound. Laughed as he’d hit the ground, his sabre flying from his hand and his limbs flailing. Laughed as he rolled to his hands and knees.

He’d been unable to control his fury any longer. Righting himself, he’d lashed out with the force, pulling her off her feet into the air towards him. She’d hung there breathless, but somehow, despite her obvious shock, still amused. He’d dropped her to her feet then, his concentration wavering as he finally came face to face with her. She stumbled, but kept her footing as he’d stepped forward grabbing her collar roughly and shoved his face into hers, intending to vent his frustration vocally.

As he’d drawn a breath she’d leaned forward and kissed him. In a single moment his rage and humiliation had abandoned him and he’d been left standing there, a stupid look on his face as she’d cocked her head to the side and smiled. He’d never been so wrong footed in his life. She’d laughed at his dumbfounded expression and then kissed him again, not letting up until he’d started to respond in kind. She introduced him to all sorts of things over subsequent evenings. 

Things hadn’t really changed much between them since. She still pursued him whenever the mood took her, un-phased by his lack of interest or outright rejection. He’d become accustomed to falling in with whatever she desired when he wished to do so, and ignoring her when he did not. There may have been a moment when he thought he might be in love with her. But between Snoke and Maristela herself, he’d been quickly remedied of any real attachment. Nothing slays youthful affection like the certainty that it’s object thought them a fool.  

Ren stood, settling his helm back over his face, before stepping away from the table. Maristela watched him go, relinquishing him for the time being. He could feel her eyes on him as swept out of the mess and into the hall, and something else…something that felt a lot like pity.

**Author's Note:**

> This is intended to be a kylux/huxlo fan pic, because I am trash and love it. But I also wanted to add my own element to the story. I'm not a hundred percent certain where this is going though. 
> 
> Info on my OC, Maristela Hux.  
> \- As far as I can discover, there's nothing to say Maratelle Hux wasn't rescued with Brendol and Baby Armitage from Arkanis at the fall of the Empire. So I'm running with the idea that she either was, or was somewhere else and reunited with her cheating husband after the event.


End file.
